Friedel was astonished: “No money? And yet you bring such lovely things to the children? Every year you’ve gone to the rich miller; of course you have never known where we poor people live.” “Yes, little boy,” said the Christ-child and smiled so strangely. “How that comes to be I cannot say. And then you are not poor.” “But mother says so.” “Give me your hand. Did you carve that beautiful horse with this hand?” “Yes.” “There is a gift in your hand,” said the Christ-child, “which a rich man cannot buy for a whole sack of gold,” and he stroked his hand and blessed him. But Friedel was not content and pleaded: “Haven’t you one more nut in your pocket or at least a fig or a cake?” Then the Christ-child said sadly: “I really didn’t think of you and I have given everything away. But if you will lend your little horse Huppdiwupp to me then you shall see a lovelier Christmas tree than any child on earth has owned tonight.” Friedel was satisfied. The Christ-child seated himself on the horse, took the little boy in his arms, and before them, between the ears of the horse, Master Greyhead perched himself. And now it was wonderful to see how the horse grew larger and larger. It was as if wings grew to him, and he rose slowly up and left the earth beneath. It snowed no more, the sky had become clear again, and the stars gleamed like diamonds in the dark hair of a queen. And as they kept rising steadily higher and higher the heart of the boy rose too. It was wide with joy, but it was strange that he could not feel it beating. His body was so light that he felt he could jump to the stars; he could not feel when his foot touched the neck of the horse. But he thought no more of this for he was so happy: his own work was bearing him up to the highest places. Far below he saw meadows and forests which shone whitely up; there, too, were the mountains and the cliffs stretching up like giants and yet unable to reach him. From the distance the bells toned very softly—as if their clappers were wound round with velvet. They were calling to Holy Festival. Friedel flew higher and higher and the earth grew as small as the wheel of the water-mill, and even smaller. Finally they went past the moon who was polishing her lamp which had almost gone out. She nodded to Friedel very kindly: “Bravo! You’ll soon be able to fly yourself!” And then they came into heaven, a place so splendid that one cannot tell of it. There stood a great palace of transparent blue crystal; in it was a hall with walls of white marble and a table which gleamed like a single diamond. Upon this table was a green pine tree and on it hung a thousand stars: five hundred of them burned with a quiet light, the other five hundred glittered and flamed like children of the sun. “Is it not lordly, Master Sparrow?” asked the boy. The other answered: “Yes, but a full cherry-tree with the fruit showing dark red through the green—I do not know but what I should prefer that.”